


double shot.

by lordvoldyfarts



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-31
Updated: 2014-10-31
Packaged: 2018-02-23 08:18:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2540801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lordvoldyfarts/pseuds/lordvoldyfarts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Laura is a barista, LaFontaine is a little shit, and Carmilla takes advantage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	double shot.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this](https://41.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_mbevvfUw0O1qduyeio1_500.jpg) amazing post by queerlaferry @ tumblr. Hope you enjoy!

It starts with the chalkboard.

Laura is two minutes late and the first to arrive at the shop (something she tries extraordinarily hard never to do). The doors are locked upon her arrival and her coworker, LaFontaine, is nowhere to be seen. It’s 7:02. She purposely set herself back two minutes during her morning routine to ensure she was _not_ the first one in the shop. Clearly two minutes wasted.

She flicks the light switch on and one by one the lights flicker on and illuminate the room. The chairs are all still stacked on the tables, messily _of course_. She silently curses the night shift workers. They always leave everything in a strange sort of disarray. Once, she came into the shop to find the chairs levitating. _Levitating_. It took two hours, some weird magnets LaFontaine stole from the physics building, and more patience than she has in her tiny body to finally get them to stay on the ground.

She weaves her way through the tables until she reaches the front of the counter. She throws her book bag over it, leaning over it slightly to keep her balance. The counter is almost half as tall as she is and she always has to stand on her tip toes to properly lean over it. Perks of being a shorter than average barista. Unfortunately, height deficiency doesn’t call for any sort of special accommodation. Though LaFontaine did buy her a fancy stool for her ‘congrats-on-making-it-6-months-without-dying’ gift. She keeps it behind the counter in case of an emergency.

She straightens herself up and her attention finally drifts toward the blank chalkboard, otherwise known as the entire reason she allowed herself two extra minutes in the shower this morning to sing a reprise of ‘Shake It Off’.

It’s a rule (written down _somewhere_ though nobody ever seems to be able to produce it when she asks. She suspects it is either written in invisible ink or in the book they keep in the basement because of its tendency to eat its own pages) that the first employee in the shop is responsible for writing the welcome message. She’s already used up all of her good coffee bean puns (not that anybody ever seems to appreciate them – save for the curly haired redhead who always orders a chai tea and gives LaFontaine the heartiest heart eyes ever) and she can’t think of anything witty. She picks up the little piece of broken chalk and twirls it between her fingers. She’s staring intently at the board, wracking her brain for anything to write on the damn thing when she hears the sound of the door opening and rushing wind followed by a whole lot of wheezing.

She turns and sees LaFontaine, bent at the knees, struggling to catch their breath. Laura rushes over to them, putting one hand on their back. “Are you okay? Did the skeletons in the cemetery near the bio building start singing Whitney Houston again?” She asks, remembering the last time LaFontaine came rushing into the shop like this….which is a story for another time. They shakes their head.

“Tiny…running...mushrooms…everywhere…” They explain between breaths. Laura furrows her brow.

“The alchemy club again? Those creeps should really learn to keep their experiments contained.” Laura grumbles, moving her hand off of LaFontaine’s shoulder as they straighten themselves up. Their breath is mostly back now.

“They were actually kind of cute in a weird proto-fungus kind of way. I wanted to try and pick one up, so I could, you know, take it back to the Bio building with me to try and figure out how they got the things to animate but they all started to converge on my shoe and I decided it was time to get out of dodge.” They explain, following Laura back to the counter. Laura pauses in front of the board and gestures to it.

“Should’ve brought one back here, we could use it instead of this ridiculous sign.” Laura says, putting the chalk back on the ledge. She starts walking behind the counter and situates herself in front of the cash register. LaFontaine walks over to the board. They look up at Laura with a raised eyebrow.

“Mind if I do it?” They ask and Laura shakes her head, gesturing to it with her left hand.

“Be my guest. I’m sure the customers really don’t want to see another one of my ‘Is coffee your daily grind?’ puns.” She gives LaFontaine permission while she’s looking down. She misses the devilish smirk that slides across LaFontaine’s face. She glances down at the cups, which are in the totally wrong order. She sighs. “Someone really ought to have a conversation with the night staff – these are all out of order! How hard is it to stick the small cups in front of the medium cups?” She grumbles to herself. There’s no response from LaFontaine. They’re silent for a few moments, until suddenly, LaFontaine is chortling. Laura’s head shoots up. Her coworker’s face is completely red and they can’t seem to stop laughing. Laura sighs. “Do I even want to know what you wrote on that thing?” She asks skeptically.

Still laughing, LaFontaine holds the [chalkboard](https://41.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_mbevvfUw0O1qduyeio1_500.jpg) up in front of them. Laura’s eyes widen and then she groans. She shakes her head.

“You’re not leaving that up there!” She exclaims. LaFontaine is still laughing and their eyes widen, glistening with mirth.

“Oh c’mon! You were just telling me yesterday that you haven’t been on a date since Danny. You have to leave it. Otherwise it’ll be a blank board and no tips for you.” LaFontaine encourages and Laura frowns. Maybe it’s the little pleading smile on LaFontaine’s face or maybe it’s the fact that LaFontaine is right – she _hasn’t_ been on a date since Danny graduated and went off to fight monsters in the Himalayas, but she relents quickly and sighs out a consent.

“Fine. Leave it. Just erase the poorly drawn, and completely exaggerated, cleavage.” She ignores LaFontaine’s yell of victory. She rolls her eyes. “Oh quit gloating – get back here and help me organize these cups.”

-

She forgets about the sign by the time the lunch rush rolls around.

The shop is jam packed. Students are coming in all stages of disarray, most of them commenting on the possible demonic nature of the tiny mushrooms that are still terrorizing the quad. The combination of body heat and steam from the machines is causing Laura to sweat profusely. She’s pretty sure she has sweat stains in places that should _not_ have sweat stains. The line is long and almost every time she finishes an order, the door opens and another customer comes in. It’s always like this during the week and if it weren’t for the fact that Laura and LaFontaine had a very good system, she’s sure that the speed in which she has to do this job would drive her mad.

Laura works the counter. She takes orders, writes names on cups and (sometimes) calls out the orders. LaFontaine makes the drinks and calls out most of the orders, though Laura saves a few special ones for herself. Laura knows she couldn’t do the part of the job that LaFontaine does. She doesn’t know how they remember every order – especially the ones with strange ingredient requests (like seafoam….she can’t imagine that it has any nutritional value and all it does is turn the drink a strange shade of green). They work together like a well-oiled machine and they haven’t made a single error in their months of working together. And if the state of the tip jar after their shift says anything, they’re doing pretty damn well.

Laura has one of her hands shoved in the pocket of her apron, the other is squeezing the sharpie tight between her fingers. She takes a glance at the seating area, her eyes drawn to a pair of girls sitting in the corner, giggling to each other. One of them glances up and catches Laura’s eye. Laura is about to look away when the girl _winks_. Laura’s eyes widen and she looks away quickly, the tips of her ears burning red. That’s strange – the only people who usually do….that are the brothers of Zeta Omega Mu when they roll through. She bites down on her lip and focuses her attention back to the customer in front of her, who is looking at her as if she’s grown another head (which isn’t completely out of the realm of possibility – this is Silas after all). She clears her throat and grins brightly, asking him for his order.

Ten minutes later, her hand is cramping and her feet are killing her. She’s more than ready for a break but she knows she won’t get one until the next shift comes on. Her hair is frizzing and her eye makeup is running. She’s sure she looks like some rogue alchemy club experiment gone wrong. She’s in the middle of writing a name when the door opens. Laura looks up to greet the new customer with a smile when her breath hitches and she swears the world stops spinning. It always does that when she walks in.

She walks in with a casual elegance that nearly knocks Laura off of her feet. She’s dressed head to toe in black, save for the red flannel that’s wrapped around her waist. Her dark hair is down, her bangs covering one of her eyes. It takes a moment for Laura to realize that she’s staring. She averts her eyes when Carmilla’s flick up.

Laura’s attention is no longer fully focused on the customers in front of her. Her eyes keep drifting to farther down the line, where Carmilla is flipping through a worn out novel, looking utterly disinterested. Laura’s never said much to the girl, only ever asking her for her order and calling out her name, because her throat dries up and her brain forgets every word she’s ever learned when the girl is in her eye line. She’s the prettiest girl Laura’s ever seen. She’s all sharp angles and hooded eyes and it throws Laura’s heart into overdrive.

The distance between Carmilla and the counter gets smaller and smaller and Laura’s heart starts beating faster and faster. By the time Carmilla is standing in front of her, Laura is certain that her heart is about to beat straight out of her chest and take off like the roadrunner. Carmilla’s got a smirk stretching across her face, a welcome change from the rather apathetic look she sports every other day. Her eyes keep flitting to something to her right, her smirk growing each time they do. Laura looks over at Carmilla, thanking every god in existence that the other girl can’t hear the sound of her rapid heartbeat. “Your usual?” Laura asks, as casually as she can.

Carmilla’s been a regular at the coffee shop since Laura started working there. She’s never missed a morning in the seven and a half months Laura’s been working and each day she orders the same thing. A large black coffee with two extra espresso shots. No cream, no sugar. It’s a simple enough order, which Laura is grateful for, because it provides her with an excuse as to why she always remembers it.

Carmilla meets her eyes. The smirk grows and Laura notices the dimple on the side of her cheek. Laura bites the inside of her lip. “You got it, cutie.” She responds, holding out a $5. Laura takes it, her hand shaking. Her whole upper body is on fire. She knows her chest is red and it spreads quickly up to her face and to her ears.

“Coming right up.” Laura replies, her voice shaky and unsettled. Carmilla steps confidently off to the side, her eyes never leaving Laura. She hears LaFontaine giggling behind her and she turns to glare at them. They just shake their head and walk toward her. They whisper in her ear, “You could probably stop traffic, your face is so red right now.” Laura’s nostrils flare and she elbows her friend in the side.

“Don’t you have coffees to be making?” She hisses through her teeth. Her blush is still heavy on her face and she knows it’ll be quite some time before it fades.

So yeah, maybe her thing for Carmilla is a _little_ obvious. But how could anyone not see how beautiful she is? Laura is just, perhaps, slightly more aware of it, and her, than most other people. She’s spent more time than she’s willing to admit studying the girl, trying to decipher her mannerisms and expressions. Learn her face and memorize it so the image of her never fades from her mind.

But hey, it’s just a tiny crush.

She takes a large cup from the stack and brings the sharpie down to it. She writes Carmilla’s name in her loopy script, dotting the ‘i’ with a heart. She did it accidentally the first time Carmilla came into the shop, her subconscious taking over her writing hand. She’s done it ever since. Carmilla’s never commented on it and Laura isn’t sure she knows what she would do if the girl ever brought it up. Probably hide underneath the counter until her blush faded, which would probably take days.

Her order is finished within moments and Laura grabs the cup with a free hand. Carmilla is standing close so Laura knows she doesn’t have to shout. So instead she says, “Hey, Carmilla, order’s up.” Laura is all large grins, flushed cheeks, and raised eyebrows and she thinks that maybe Carmilla is the most oblivious girl on the planet earth because Laura is everything but subtle.

Carmilla reaches up, almost wrapping her handle entirely around Laura’s, to take the drink. She’s biting down on her bottom lip with one incredibly sharp looking incisor. Laura’s eyes flit down to the cup and up to Carmilla’s eyes, which are dark and filled with something Laura can’t quite place. Laura’s tongue darts out to lick her bottom lip and Carmilla’s eyes follow the movement. Just as Laura takes her lip between her teeth, Carmilla looks away and snatches the cup from Laura’s grasp, effectively ending the moment.

Laura is left to stare after her, wondering what the hell just happened.

-

Laura feels Carmilla’s eyes on her the entire time she sits and drinks her coffee.

She sits at a table very close the counter and each and every time Laura looks over to her, Carmilla is staring right back, just the hint of a smirk ghosting across her face.

Safe to say, Laura’s blush hasn’t gone away.

Laura’s just finished writing a name on a cup when Carmilla comes sauntering up to the counter, her smirk larger than Laura’s ever seen it. She shoves in front of the person nearing the counter, who scoffs but Carmilla doesn’t seem to hear them. She sets her (presumably) empty cup on the countertop. Laura looks at her, confusion written in the wrinkles on her forehead. She’s about to tell her that you don’t return paper cups, but she’s already turning away. Laura’s eyes follow her. Just before she reaches the door, she turns around and winks. Laura’s jaw goes slack and she’s frozen in place because holy hell, did Carmilla just wink at her?

She blinks slowly a few times and then picks up the cup Carmilla left.

Underneath her own script, is a tidy and boxy note that reads, ‘Nice sign. Didn’t peg you as the forward type, cutie. Call me sometime.’ Followed by her phone number. Laura’s breath hitches.

_Shit_.

She just got Carmilla’s phone number! A grin spreads quickly across her face and she can’t stop herself from jumping up and down, squealing just a little. This has got to be the best afternoon of her life. Her hands are shaking with excitement and she glances down at her watch, wondering how soon is too soon to call. She thinks that waiting at least a half an hour sounds about right. The rush has died down now and the next shift should be coming on soon and Laura knows she’s going to call as soon as she gets out of the shop. She’s been waiting for this for far too long to wait anymore.

She lets out a dreamy sigh, a sound she’s never heard come from her own body before. LaFontaine comes up next to her and raises their eyebrows. “See, told you the sign was a good idea.” They say, gesturing to the cup that’s still standing upright on the counter. Laura tries to look angry with her friend but she can’t feel anything other than giddiness at the moment.

She does, however, manage to roll her eyes. “I can’t believe I let you leave that thing up there. Do you know how many people saw that? No wonder that girl in the back kept winking at me.” She thinks out loud. LaFontaine laughs.

“Hey, no. You don’t get to complain now! It got you the number of the girl you’ve been crushing on for months.” Laura’s smile grows. She looks like a lovestruck princess from a Disney movie but she doesn’t care.

She doesn’t remember the last time she felt this happy.

“Fair.” She says and LaFontaine laughs, hitting her on the side with her rolled up rag.

-

Her shift ends 45 minutes later.

The moment she’s out of the door, her phone is in her hand and she’s dialing the number left on the cup. Carmilla answers after only two rings. Laura grins.

“Hey, so I wasn’t sure how long I should wait to call but I figured sooner would be better.”


End file.
